


Wind, Wind, Wind Me Up

by Rinzler



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh,” Barry breathes underneath him. “Oh my god, Len, Lenny- ah!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wind, Wind, Wind Me Up

“Oh,” Barry breathes underneath him. “Oh my god, Len, Lenny- ah!” **  
**

He reaches his hands up to grip at Len’s shoulders, but they’re shaky, weak and trembling. His fingers slide across Len’s skin, desperate and scrambling, like he has to hang on to something or he’ll fall to pieces, but he can’t quite muster the strength.

They’ve been in this bed for five minutes and seventy-three seconds, and while that’s definitely not the longest they’ve ever taken, this is definitely the most wrecked that Len has ever seen Barry. 

He’s sprawled out across their bed, past the point of coherency or shame, his legs spread wide and Len easily fitting between his tense thighs. Every so often Barry will tremor intermittently, but it’s not a full vibration.

Len holds down Barry’s hips as he thrusts another finger into him and wonders why he hadn’t thought to try this earlier.

They’ve experimented sexually before. The cherry-red ball gag for Christmas remains a favorite, as do the numerous silk and designer ties. Yet somehow Len had almost managed to overlook just how much Barry reacted to having his prostate toyed with.

He’s fingered Barry open more times than he can count, making Barry mindless with pleasure at the feel of Len’s fingers inside him, thick and blunt, cruel and capable. Barry almost never preps himself anymore. Len loves to do it too much. Loves to spend his time teasing Barry, making him whine and beg. Loves to drag Barry to the edge and back off just in time, leaving him feeling excruciatingly sensitive.

Barry experiences pleasure on a whole different level of intensity. His body craves it after one touch, one brush of Len’s fingers, one wistful kiss. Len’s still not sure of that’s just Barry’s powers, or the fact that he’s a twenty-six year old male, or both combined.

Somehow, Len’s not all too eager to discover every hidden secret about Barry’s sex drive just yet. He has much better things to do. Like test it.

“Len,” Barry moans underneath him, name like a prayer. “Ah! Oh god-”

Len ‘hm’s and leans down, rolling his wrist in a circle again, dragging his fingers against Barry’s prostate. Then he flicks his eyes upward just in time to watch the reaction that gets him.

Barry screams, voice breathy and ragged, back arching off the mattress. He’s beautiful like this, consumed by wild abandonment. Barry is always vocal, rambling and theorizing and explaining the day away- yet here he is, on the edge, his grasp rapidly slipping. Reduced to little more than wanton pleas.

Len wants to take him over that edge. Not just yet, though.

He presses feather-light kisses along the jut of Barry’s hipbones, marking a lazy, meandering line running parallel to Barry’s dripping cock. Barry whines at each touch, breath jumping at a particularly hard press of Len’s fingers inside him.

“Oh, oh god Len, Len! Ah!” Barry manages in between gasps for breath, chest heaving.

Len presses one last kiss to Barry’s hipbone and moves upwards, dislodging Barry’s hands from where they grasp at his shoulders. Barry drops his arms to the bed instead, tangling his fingers in the sheets. Len takes a moment to enjoy the sight, kneeling upright between Barry’s legs.

“Are you ever- ah- going to let me come?” Barry asks. When Len doesn’t move, he circles his hips a little, an unspoken demand for Len to hurry the hell up. “Fuck! Ah!” He whimpers and rolls his hips down again. “Len, please, come on-”

“I’ll think about it,” Len drawls in response to Barry’s first question. Barry glares at him, a shred of annoyance appearing. “Now, now, Barry,” Len chastises, biting back a grin at the way Barry’s glare intensifies, “aren’t you going a little fast?”

“Len, I swear that if you don’t do something right the-” Barry tries to protest. The effect is mostly ruined by the fact that his voice and shoulders are shaking with suppressed laughter.

Len hums and stretches to kiss him, taking his other hand off of Barry’s hips and bracing it by his head instead. Barry groans into the kiss, half exasperation and half delight. He’s learning Len’s tricks, all the ways that Len has developed to distract and derail him. Usually he’s willing to play along and get lost in the fantasy, but not tonight. Instead Barry breaks the kiss and then darts back in, lightning-fast, to nip at Len’s lower lip. He breaks the skin and there’s a momentary tang of blood before Barry licks it away.

“I am- I am serious,” Barry continues, losing track of his sentence halfway through and having to start over. “Please, Len, I want to come,” he says, voice slipping into a pleading tone. Len will forever deny the shivers that tone sends through him.

“I’ll think about it,” he counters, and presses down hard on Barry’s prostate.

Barry arcs off the bed with a scream, back forming a perfect bow and chest brushing Len’s, still leaning over him. His cock jerks with the movement, precum smearing across his abs. When he collapses back down some of it starts to drip down his side and the inside of his thigh, he’s so wet.

He doesn’t come, but it’s a close thing. Len glances up and observes the way Barry is biting his lip, eyes screwed closed. Another vibration runs through him, and Barry gasps anew at the way it makes Len’s fingers tremor.

Oh, they definitely should have tried this earlier.

**Author's Note:**

> my soul: *blows kisses as it detaches itself from my body and descends into hell*


End file.
